


Starch and Parchment

by WrongRemedy



Category: American Revolution RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: American Monarchy AU, King George Washington, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-29 00:11:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11429127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WrongRemedy/pseuds/WrongRemedy
Summary: At the Constitutional Convention, Alexander Hamilton proposed a government in which a King was elected by the people to rule for life.This is an AU in which that plan passed, and Washington was elected the first King of the United States.





	Starch and Parchment

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the first chapter of this story about two years ago, in the fall of 2015, I believe. It sprung from listening to the musical and then researching the actual details of the plan the real Hamilton spent 6 hours proposing. I couldn't help but feel that the reason Hamilton was so strongly in favor of an elected King even though they'd just removed themselves from one monarchy was simply because he knew Washington would be the only choice for their first King. My love of power dynamics in Whamilton fic took over from there. 
> 
> At this point I am honestly not sure if there will ever be more than one chapter of this. But I realized it was silly to leave this one sitting on my computer when it had been finished for so long. Maybe with some feedback, I'll be kickstarted into writing more. If I do end up adding chapters, the rating (currently T for implied sexual references) will most definitely end up being raised to E, because I am incapable of writing this pairing without sex. 
> 
> Title taken from the song Kings and Queens by Aerosmith.

Hamilton has been speaking for just over four hours.

It is the middle of June, and the Federal Convention is precisely one week shy of completing its first month in session. Under Washington’s presiding hand, delegates from New Jersey and his own home state of Virginia have laid out their most carefully crafted ideas regarding the structure of the government of their new nation. While Washington naturally listened with the utmost attention and interest to each word spoken – himself having the deepest possible level of anticipation on the subject of how it would all turn out – even he has to admit to himself privately that the names are beginning to blur together, even if the points of the plans themselves were not.

Brearly, Dayton, Houston, Livingston, Paterson – those are the New Jersey lads. Serviceable enough ideas, though lacking in ways that the other delegates had not hesitated to point out. Madison, Mason, Blair, McClurg, Randolph, Wythe - the representatives of Washington’s own beloved Virginia, themselves providing suggestions noble enough that Washington could not fail in his pride for his fellow statesmen, and yet still not entirely “rising to the occasion of the new nation,” as Hamilton had once so inspiringly phrased it. And that thought turns Washington back to the, for lack of any more appropriate term, _spectacle_ at hand.

As a rule, Washington tends to take great pleasure in Hamilton’s speech, in more ways than one. He has quite happily lost track of the extensive number of hours he has spent listening to Hamilton read poetry aloud, compose letters that he dictates to himself as he pens them, or give impassioned speeches on topics of war, financial systems, slavery, and more. He has even more happily lost track of the amount of time he has spent listening to Hamilton’s voice when it was meant for only him – crafting innuendos so clever that Washington is filled with amusement and awe that equal his desire, detailing his exploits from when Washington was not around, expressing his desire for what he wishes Washington would do to him when they are able to steal moments, and, perhaps most of all, pleading with Washington in his moments of glorious desperation.

However, as much of Washington’s life as had been dedicated to simply reveling in listening to Hamilton, even he is in a state of awe that is perhaps not entirely pleasant due to the sheer length and complexity of Hamilton’s current verbal endeavor.

Hamilton’s speech had begun innocently enough; praising the speakers who had come before him, proclaiming their experiences and abilities superior to his own and declaring his respect for the men and their ideas. A show of deference which Washington knew to be almost entirely disingenuous given Hamilton’s propensity to believe that he was ever and always the most worthwhile power in any room, next to Washington himself. Despite his seemingly pacifistic start, Hamilton had swiftly set upon the task of systematically dismantling both the New Jersey and Virginia plans. He then proceeded to set forth his proposal for his own system – one so seemingly anathema to all others that had previously been discussed that it had crossed Washington’s mind at the offset that Hamilton could, perhaps, have been doing it all in jest, simply to see how long the Convention would allow him to speak before discovering his ruse and putting an end to it. However, sitting at the front of the room and swiftly approaching Hamilton’s fifth hour of impassioned rhetoric, Washington has, by now, begun to understand that Hamilton is as serious at this moment as he has ever been. Hamilton, he of dazzling intellect and dazzling eyes, beautiful of mind and body, one of Washington’s great joys in all this long life, must truly believe that what is best for the United States moving forward is to grant a startlingly grand amount of power and prestige to the individual holder of the nation’s Executive office.

A delegate from one of the Carolinas – Washington has neither the desire nor the long-range eyesight to discern which – turns to speak to the fellow next to him and, seemingly inadvertently, raises his voice enough to be heard above Hamilton, creating the first clearly-spoken interruption that has occurred since Hamilton began.

“Would such an Executive not be an _elective monarch_?” the man queries to his companion, with obvious contempt in his tone as he utters the final two words. Washington turns his gaze back to Hamilton, cocking a curious eyebrow and sitting up a little straighter in his chair in anticipation of Hamilton’s response. Hamilton himself raises an eyebrow in the direction of the man, and Washington just barely restrains himself from huffing out a preemptively frustrated groan because he _knows_ that look on Hamilton’s face, and he already feels immense sympathy for the unsuspecting Carolinian.

“The esteemed gentleman from South Carolina raises an objection which, believe it if you will, I had anticipated encountering.” Hamilton begins, and Washington again barely manages to reign in his natural desire and keep himself from rolling his eyes. Hamilton continues.

“To those who would balk at the suggestion of a so-called _elective monarch_ , I propose the following observations. _Monarch_ is an indefinite term, marking neither the degree nor the duration of a man’s power. If this Executive Magistrate would be a monarch for life as I humbly suggest, the other, proposed by a previous committee, would be a monarch for seven years. What is most paramount to note regardless of length of term is that the circumstance of election is applicable to both plans.”

To Washington’s surprise, a mild murmur of perhaps unwitting approval ripples through the delegation at Hamilton’s reminder. It dies out as swiftly as it is born, however, as Hamilton announces his intention to now chronicle his list of proposed amendments to the Randolph plan. Washington cannot think that Hamilton will provide any fewer than ten amendments to anything he sets a mind to correct, and knows that the true number could easily fall much higher.

Thankfully, though he is proven right on the former assumption, the latter possibility does not occur, and Hamilton raises only eleven amendments. Though the fact that he chooses to present each one in such intricate detail means that, by the time he draws his argument on the subject to a close, he has been speaking for nigh on six hours total, with the delegation as a collective body becoming increasingly restless with each passing word. Just as Hamilton seems to be winding down in much the same manner as the delegation, he suddenly appears to gather his second wind as he enunciates, “Now, on these several articles I shall enter into explanatory observations corresponding with the principals of my introductory reasoning—”

Here, a loud bellow envelops the room and engulfs Hamilton’s voice entirely.

“Enough!” Shouts a voice which Washington recognizes in the space of a single heartbeat as belonging to James Madison. The man’s voice is weak enough on most occasions that in the rare instances that Washington has heard him raise it, he has always taken a pronounced degree of notice, and this time is no exception. Hamilton, along with much of the delegation and Washington himself, turn their attention to Madison as he raises himself from his chair.

“Your Excellency, sir,” he begins, addressing Washington first before gesturing to the room at large. “Noble and esteemed delegates,” he continues, “While it is apparent that Mr. Hamilton possesses the verve to continue on for several hours more, in the interest of all our sanity and the future of our fledgling nation, I propose we cease with the current speech and put this plan to a vote as it has been read thus far.”

Madison places a heavy emphasis on the end of his final sentence – _as it has been read thus far_ – weighted with the implication that a plan not given the opportunity to be fully outlined by its creator must not, in responsibility, be allowed to pass by popular vote. Madison is offering this solution not only to put an end to Hamilton’s oration, but also in an attempt to sway the delegation into voting against it. Washington admires Madison’s cunning even as he feels the customary surge of protection which always seizes him when Hamilton’s dreams and ambitions, and thereby his happiness, are put into jeopardy.

Washington becomes aware of the many sets of eyes which have now turned towards him, and recalls abruptly that he is, in fact, the leader of this delegation. While he had been reluctant in his acceptance of the position, he had agreed to it in the end (with only the slightest, sweetest _persuasion_ from Hamilton, who seemed, as always, to maintain a preoccupation with Washington’s appointment to positions of authority), and thus he was the one who would need to decide on behalf of their whole nation whether or not a vote on Hamilton’s plan should occur.

Not sparing the young man in question a glance for fear of letting some hint of his affections show on his face for all the delegates to see, Washington addresses Madison directly. He is thankful that when he speaks, his voice bursts forth in the same smooth fashion as is usual for him; the six hours of disuse not apparent in the slightest.

“The delegation will vote in the manner proposed by Mr. Madison. The representatives of each state will confer for a period of one half hour or until such time as all states have cast their votes, and a majority of nine of our thirteen states will be required for the Hamilton Plan to be accepted. Should the plan succeed in winning the vote of the requisite number of states, we will adjourn for the evening and allow Mr. Hamilton the time to gather any fellows he may require to create a draft of the plan on paper, which we will then discuss further upon reconvening on the morrow. Should the plan fail in the vote, we will hear remarks from further delegations in our next session. Mr. Madison, if you would, please return to your seat. The delegates may begin their discussions now.”

Only after his speech ends and the room breaks out into a low level buzz of voices and activity does Washington allow himself to look back at Hamilton once again. His boy is, for once, paying Washington no mind – instead he is preoccupied with the task of nervously glancing around the room, dark eyes cataloguing the facial expressions, gestures, and voices of each and every delegate in a frenzied attempt to ascertain what chance of success he may have.

After listening to Hamilton for six hours, the half hour allotted the delegation for discussion of their vote seems to pass in the blink of an eye, and before Washington himself can begin to feel a sense of nervousness on Hamilton’s behalf, the time has come to take the census. He briefly considers calling out to each state and having their primary delegate deliver their vote to the group as a whole, but understands immediately the risk that the later states may change their vote according to how the earlier states proceed.

“Gentlemen,” he calls out, loudly enough to bring all conversation in the room to a stop, “The time has come to vote on the plan for our United States government as proposed by Mr. Hamilton. Each state will please inscribe their name and vote in writing, and their primary delegate shall deliver them into my hand. Mr. Madison and I, as it was at his request that this vote took place, shall then tally the votes together and announce the result.”

Another murmur goes through the room, but each state promptly begins to write out their vote and sends a man up to present them to Washington. Madison himself brings the vote from Virginia, which Washington is certain will be a no, and he takes a moment to be grateful that he himself did not have to have a hand in deciding his state’s position on the matter. He has not yet determined for himself what his stance on Hamilton’s plan is. He is more than aware that most, if not all of these men are of a mind to elect Washington himself to the very office Hamilton is suggesting be held for a lifetime, and has not yet had the time to contemplate whether or not he would reckon himself capable of fulfilling such a role. His desire to see the plan accepted stems only from his regard for Hamilton’s success and happiness. He again stops himself from looking at Hamilton, lest he give himself away.

When the final ballot is placed before him, Washington begins to lay the pages out on the table, creating one stack for votes in the affirmative, and one for votes in the negative. He ensures that each leaf is in Madison’s full view as he lays them into their assigned places, so that he cannot be accused of deception.

Hamilton’s plan receives three positive votes immediately, and Washington fights to keep his look of surprise from showing on his face. A vote in the negative follows, and then two more affirmations. A second and third “no” fall to the table with nearly palpable weight, and Washington’s heart begins to hammer in his chest. Another vote in Hamilton’s favor is followed by a further strike against him, and Washington nearly loses his nerve to check the remaining three ballots. If any of the three are answered in the negative, Hamilton’s plan will not pass.

Washington can feel Madison’s breath becoming labored as he stands looking over Washington’s shoulder. Madison is nervous as well, though he is doing a much poorer job of hiding it than Washington. Washington unfolds and sets aside the first of the final ballots – a yes, from Rhode Island. The next he flips with a slow hand, frightened as a child to see what will be written on it. To his amazement, it too is an affirmative. The final page cannot be revealed quickly enough. A few strokes of the quill in one direction or the other, and the fate of Hamilton, the fate of their very nation, will be determined.

The final vote is laid on the table, and Washington hears Madison’s heavy exhale, sees out of the corner of his eye as Madison hangs his head before raising his eyes again to the Virginia section of the delegation. Washington himself spares Hamilton only the briefest of brushing glances as he stands slowly and addresses the room.

“The governmental plan proposed by Mr. Alexander Hamilton, junior delegate representing the state of New York….has passed.” Washington announces firmly. There is silence in the room following the proclamation, and it takes Washington aback momentarily. He had expected outrage, a bursting forth of anger like a hot spring gushing vitriol at him, at Hamilton, at the entire democratic process. Instead, there is silence, so Washington fills it.

“As per my earlier declaration, we will now adjourn our current session, and Mr. Hamilton will spend the evening seeing to the drafting of a document outlining his proposed plan. Deliberations will begin anew tomorrow morning, and discussions of the plan can be brought forth along with any potential amendments.”

Washington takes another moment to simply look around the room, into the faces of his countrymen. His countrymen, who have just collectively handed the greatest honor perhaps in the history of any nation to Alexander Hamilton, a man to whom Washington himself would gladly give the world. Washington’s heart swells with pride for all of them, and he allows himself to smile broadly.

“Congratulations, gentlemen,” he says jovially. “We have just created the basis for the government of the United States of America.”

The delegates rise from their seats at this, and applause breaks out within the chamber. In the hubbub, Washington allows himself to look over at Hamilton, only to find Hamilton’s eyes already trained on him.

Hamilton looks….ill, in complete truth. The boy is clearly in a state of shock and Washington feels a pang of protectiveness and sympathy go through him at the sight. Swiftly, he makes his way across the room and takes Hamilton by the elbow as the applause dies off and the delegates begin to gather their belongings. If the gesture is too intimate, nobody in the room will notice or mind. He and Hamilton have been known to be the closest of colleagues and friends since the war – the largest part of the reason why keeping the secret truth of their relationship has been accomplished with relative ease.

“Come, Hamilton,” he instructs in his most familial of tones. “Let us first obtain some sort of nourishment, and then we may begin work on your draft.” His voice is loud enough that many of the delegates will hear it, and he considers it sufficient to allow them to make their exit without causing any further stir.

As they exit the room and turn several corners into deserted hallways without being directly followed by any other delegates, Washington takes the opportunity to lean in closer to Hamilton and speak in a lower tone.

“The sooner we get your brilliant plan drafted, my love,” he explains, “the sooner we can celebrate in truth.” Washington makes an entirely unwise decision and stops Hamilton short in order to push the younger man briefly against the wall, this time speaking with only a hairsbreadth separating their mouths. “As soon as we are given any moment of rest, my darling, we will celebrate you.” He grips Hamilton’s chin and places a small but firm kiss on his too-pink lips. “Alexander Hamilton,” Washington murmurs, placing his hands on Hamilton’s hips and tipping their foreheads together. “Creator of the United States government.”

Hamilton lets out a noise that sounds suspiciously like a sob and sinks towards Washington, his knees buckling as if the importance of what has just happened has finally come crashing into him. Washington steadies him and presses a few more lingering kisses to Hamilton’s temples, to the end of his nose, and finally again on his lips.

“I am so proud of you, my boy,” he says, locking eyes with Hamilton.

“Thank you, sir,” Hamilton responds, voice as steady as can be expected in such a situation, which is to say, not very. Washington watches as Hamilton hears himself and visibly pulls himself back together into something more closely resembling a cohesive man. One deep breath in, another out, and Washington steps back to a proper distance away from Hamilton just as footsteps and voices begin to echo in a nearby hall. The usual exuberant smile returns to Hamilton’s face, much to Washington’s delight.

“Dinner,” Hamilton says firmly, and Washington nods. “Then,” Hamilton continues, broad grin still firmly in place, “then we write the future of America.”


End file.
